Page 28 of Somebody to Save
Addison ordered one of their signature cocktails, and I ordered a whiskey, neat.
“I’ll bring some bread as well.”
The second he left, I turned back to Addison. “You’re right. I have friends that have kids your age. Does that bother you?”
She looked down at her hands, fidgeting with a ring on her pointer finger. And every silent second that passed, my anxiety grew. In an instant, I was second-guessing everything. Every interaction, every word we’d spoken to one another.
“I know it should, but it doesn’t.”
I had to take a breath before I could respond. “Why should it?”
“Because,” Addison began but was interrupted by Jeremy, who slid our drinks across the table along with the basket of bread and butter. He promised to give us a few minutes to look over the menu, which neither of us had even opened.
Addison took a long sip of her drink, and her eyes widened. “Oh my gosh, that’s so good.”
I smiled against the rim of my own glass as she tilted hers back one more time. She slid it across the table and cleared her throat.
“Anyway, I just think that most people would be bothered by a seventeen-year age difference.”
“I don’t care what most people think, Bubbles. I care whatyouthink.”
“I don’t care,” she said softly.
When she looked back up at me, I felt the weight of her words and the confidence behind them directly in the center of my chest. And I couldn’t help it. I had to touch her. Reachingforward, I let my hand rest on her thigh just beneath the slit of her dress.
I watched her chest expand. “Maybe I would if I thought you only wanted to be with mebecauseof my age,” she said, her voice breathy. “But I don’t think that’s true.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, taking a sip of my drink and letting the warm liquor burn away the rest of my nerves. “That couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“Okay, good. So, it’s not an issue? For either of us?”
“No, baby girl. It’s not.”
She nodded, a smile slipping across her lips as she reached for the menu. “So, what’s good here? What do you recommend?”
“Honestly, everything,” I said, looking over her shoulder. “But I usually get the ribeye or the fettuccine. Their lasagna is also really good.”
“Pasta sounds amazing, actually.”
I reached for the bread and placed two slices on a plate for Addison, then added two for myself on a separate plate. Pushing the butter toward her, Jeremy arrived, and we ordered our entrées.
“I tried to make pasta from scratch once, but it didn’t turn out so well. I’m not a great cook. I can do the basics like makingpackagedpasta, but more than that I’m worthless.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
She finished chewing a bite of bread and confidently said, “It is. I have other skills that make up for it, though.”
Once the words were out of her mouth, she froze, and even in the dim candlelight, I saw a blush make its way across her cheeks and down her chest. She opened her mouth, likely to backtrack, but I couldn’t let her. Her embarrassment was adorable, although unnecessary.
“I know you do, baby girl.”
FOURTEEN
SOMETHING TO LOOK AT
Beckett
Addison’s blush spread,and she licked her lips. She tilted her drink to her mouth, and I didn’t think I’d ever been jealous of a glass before. But fuck what I wouldn’t give to trade places with it.
